“ The Voice of the Smiling Generation”A Poem by aluminara“The Voice of the Smiling Generation” (“smiling generation”: an old-men term for ‘newcomers’) I know a Pony, his name is Joy. I see his Unicornland greetings every day alongside with jokes of pony sexism. I touch his tricksy blinks in night-taken photos, nights such as these that make us remember the baths where we were smauged. I hear, he talks sometimes like a demon but he also loves jumping up in the high clouds to receive his green sparkly-eyes. [Once, in a green-eyed sky I saw his shirt -colorful of flying petals- bursting into flames like a fire-flower.] Well, he’s lovable because he treasures nothing, even his wings, wings creeper than happyness -when he stands happy before happiness, two times more- and he always fairly shares his fun with his friends. […] I know a Pony his name is Joy, but I know nothing of his friends -well… I know a foxy of his, but she is merely enough proof. Once, I heard a night-old tale about some to Candyland Mountains visits to several shinny-armor Knights but -as I realized- smiling Knights are not be trusted in the night and always the same to their appealing Sticks of Death. […] I think I know a Pony, I’m sure his name is Joy; but that was two years ago. © 2016 aluminara |
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Added on March 26, 2015 Last Updated on September 16, 2016 Author
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